


Flirting

by sillyideas



Category: Deltarune (Video Game)
Genre: AFAB reader - Freeform, F/M, M/M, Praise Kink, but there's also degradation! double whammy, dom rouxls, i suppose it's technically dubcon but y'all are both clearly into it, im bad at tagging, sub Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-20 22:32:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16564370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sillyideas/pseuds/sillyideas
Summary: You’re enraptured with the way he looks at you with a playful glint in his eyes and the way he purrs your name. It’s a game, really. You flirt. He flirts back. Whoever loses their patience with the teasing and slams the other against a wall first loses some unspoken, undefined game.Well, looks like Rouxls loses.





	Flirting

**Author's Note:**

> this like. isn't very good like At All but y'all really wanted it so here it is

Well.  
You’ve always been kinda flirty with the shopkeeper.  
By “kinda”, of course, it is understood that you have a major fucking crush on this bag of garbage Rouxls Kaard and you aren't going to let it go.  
You're really not sure what draws you to him. His body? He has an admittedly very nice figure, and never hesitates to show it off-- he lays on the table in the shop like he expects you to draw him like one of your French girls, for God’s sake. Or maybe it's his personality. He’s eccentric. Very eccentric. You can't say you don't like a man who dances to the beat of his own drum. Or, like, his own weirdass medieval drum.  
Encounters with Rouxls always give you butterflies, in all honesty. You’re enraptured with the way he looks at you with a playful glint in his eyes and the way he purrs your name. It’s a game, really. You flirt. He flirts back. Whoever loses their patience with the teasing and slams the other against a wall first loses some unspoken, undefined game. 

Well, looks like Rouxls loses.  
You were wearing fairly revealing clothes today, an outfit that hugged and showed off your figure nicely, and he noticed. The moment you walked into his shop to mindlessly browse his wares (your thinly veiled excuse to keep coming back), you saw his eyes widen and heard his breath hitch.  
“Good… morrow…” His voice trailed off.  
“Hey, Rouxls,” you greeted casually.  
“Thou lookst... nyce Today.”  
“Thank you!” you chimed with a coquettish smirk. “You don’t look so bad yourself!”  
“Thank you,” he murmured. Seeing Rouxls flustered was the most entertaining thing in a while. And there was definitely no harm in telling him so:  
“You know, you’re kinda cute when you get all blushy like that.”  
He bit his lip and avoided your gaze.  
“I’m not used to seeing you lose your composure,” you continued, still wearing your coy smile.  
At this, he sat up from his sexy Titanic scene pose so he was sitting straight up on the desk. He grabbed you by your shirt and pulled your face to his.  
“Doth thou want me to showe thee composure?” he growled, his stern character broken by the eager grin tugging at his lips. Excitement fluttered in your stomach. Damn. Months of sexual tension was finally getting a resolution.

So that’s where you are now. Your face inches away from his, your heart beating in your throat, the excitement almost too much to bear.  
“Yes, sir,” you find yourself whispering. God, he’s just so dominating.  
Rouxls spreads his legs a bit and pulls you down onto one, so you’re straddling his thigh.  
He lets go of your shirt, and his hand moves to your chin. He tilts your head up, as if your gaze wasn’t already burning into his, and sweeps his thumb over your lips.  
“Open thy Mouthe,” he says lowly. You oblige, allowing a couple of his fingers to slide into your mouth. You moan around them, earning a chuckle from Rouxls.  
“Adorable,” he croons.  
You can't help it when you start rubbing yourself against his thigh. You need some friction, anything, this is just all so much and-  
His other hand is suddenly holding your hips in place with an iron grip.  
“Ah, ah, not yet,” he growls. “I set the payce. Understoode?”  
You hum in response.  
Rouxls then pulls his fingers out of your mouth. You can't help but whine a bit at the loss of sensation, but you also can't complain when he uses his now-free hands to unbutton and shrug off his coat. The garment makes a soft thud as it falls in a heap on the floor.  
Your eyes dart over the exposed skin, and back up to Rouxls’ face-- and you find he’s wearing the absolute cockiest smirk. Had this been in any other context you would have slapped that grin clean off him. But right now? It’s actually kinda hot.  
“Liketh what thou seest?”  
“Must say I do,” you breathe.  
He turns his chin up so he’s looking down at you. Something about this angle, about the feeling of being underneath him, is absolutely thrilling.  
“Good,” he says. You shiver.  
He makes quick work of your own shirt, casting it aside and wasting no time to start running his hands over your sides. He doesn't even touch any especially sensitive parts, but the general feeling of his hands on your body is heavenly.  
“Oh, Rouxls…” you mumble.  
“God, I love hearing thee say my Name,” he hisses. “Say it agayn, you worm. Say my Name again.”  
“Rouxls…”  
His hands are wandering lower and lower on your body. He hooks his thumb under your pants, sending pangs of excitement through your stomach.  
Agonizingly slowly, he slides your pants down around your thighs.  
“Keep going, please keep going,” you murmur.  
“That’s it,” he whispers. “Beg for me like that. I wanteth thee to fucking worshippe me.”  
“Yes sir, yes sir…”  
Rouxls brushes his hand over your undergarments, and you let out an embarrassingly loud moan.  
“Thou art adorable under mine Controlle like this,” he praises under his breath, barely audible.  
“Please, Rouxls, touch me again,” you find yourself saying. It’s practically automatic; you’re barely thinking about anything but how good that felt.  
“Well, when thou asketh so nycely…” He presses a finger into you through the fabric.  
“Oh my god,” you gasp. He pulls his finger away and examines it with a grin.  
“Alreadie soaked through thy Drawers,” he observes with a satisfied smirk. “Thou art that desperate for me, hmm?”  
“Please touch me more, sir…”  
He smiles a bit at this, and returns his hand to between your legs. He rubs circles into you with his thumb, frustratingly slow, but at a consistent rhythm. A soft mmm escapes your lips. It feels so good.  
But it's painfully frustrating. You want more, you need more.  
“Faster,” you breathe.  
He stops.  
“I’ll touch thee as I please,” he hisses lowly. “Ungrayteful worme.”  
This feeling of being his, of being at Rouxls’ service, his disposal, is almost as exciting as the physical touching.  
“I’m sorry, sir,” you say. “It won't happen again. You're in charge, sir.”  
“Thine Apologie is... cute,” he says, a grin creeping onto his face. “I may let thy Mistake slydeth this time.”  
“Please… I want you to touch me.”  
“That’s a goode little Pet. Using thy manners.”  
He brings a hand to his chin in thought, looking over your current position.  
“Wayte. I want to trie something,” he says.  
With some slightly awkward shifting, Rouxls gets himself up from the desk and stands up in front of you. For a moment neither of you move, simply staring into each other's eyes.  
“God, I adore thee like this,” he breathes. “Mine. All mine.”  
He gets down on his knees and positions his head between your legs. The sight alone gives you butterflies.  
Time seems to slow as he, very carefully, exposes you, letting your panties fall down your legs. From the look on his face, he's in just as much awe of this intimacy as you are. It’s almost magical, really.  
He grabs you by the thighs -- that contact alone, the way he's gripping you as if his life depends on it, is enough to earn a soft sound from you -- and slowly, gently brings his mouth to you.  
You gasp at the new sensation, hands flying to Rouxls’ hair and clutching him by it. Oh my god.  
You can feel the vibrations of the little laugh from him this earns.  
“Rouxls… please.” It’s all you can say. You can't form any more words.  
He starts eating you out-- dear God, this might be the best you've ever felt in your life. You definitely have some newfound appreciation for his somewhat… goopy? composition, you don't even know what substance this idiot is made of, his tongue borders on slimy, it feels so, so good, Jesus Christ. Your mind is going practically blank with pleasure. You whine his name over and over, and you can tell from the way it makes him give you more that he fucking loves it.  
His fingernails dig into your thighs, hard enough that it's probably gonna leave a mark. The sharp pain mixing with the pleasure feels so nice…  
Rouxls’ tongue on you is just an indescribable feeling. It’s gooey and slimy and it feels like heaven. You never want this to stop, oh god.  
It feels so damn good, and you can tell where it’s going--  
“Rouxls, I’m getting close,” you moan.  
One hand leaves your thigh and his fingers are back to work on your clit. Coupled with his tongue, you can barely take how good it feels.  
“Rouxls, I…”  
He just barely lifts his mouth off you, and his fingers haven't let up, so he can speak:  
“That’s it. Sayeth my Name like that. Thou art such a good Pet for me, such a good Toye.”  
You obey, murmuring his name again and again, as he gives you a hard squeeze with his other hand, sending shocks of pain through you, and you love it.  
You’re so close.  
“Cum for me, worm.”  
Your whines escalate into something bordering on a scream, your eyelids flutter, your grip on his hair tightens, you’re on cloud nine. Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ.  
You ride out your orgasm as Rouxls’ tongue returns to working at you, slowing down with you as you come down from your high.  
You’re in a daze. Rouxls gets up and says something about how you did so well as he retrieves his coat from the floor and puts it back on. He then tends to you, redressing you and never missing an opportunity to praise you for how well you got into subspace, how good you were for him, how much he loved this.  
Once you’ve finally regained your composure, you decide to get going. You have places to be, after all.  
“We’ll have to do this again sometime,” you find yourself saying as you head for the door.  
“Of kourse, of kourse. That was wonderfulle. I seeth no Probleme with thou paying me another visite tomorrowe…”  
You grin, calling to the shopkeeper over your shoulder as you leave. “I owe you one, Rouxls. Next time’ll be my turn to do the work.”  
“Perfecte!”


End file.
